


Shower Me with Love

by Brit Hux-Tico (birchwoods01)



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Body Image, F/M, Gingerflower, Gingerose, Gingerrose - Freeform, Self-Acceptance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-06
Updated: 2020-03-06
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:01:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23032147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/birchwoods01/pseuds/Brit%20Hux-Tico
Summary: Rose Tico has never cared for her appearance. Her life has been too rough for her looks to matter, plus she's quite aware of not being tall and lean as most attractive people are. Armitage Hux, the spy who escaped the First Order barely alive, is experiencing civilian life for the first time and unlike Rose, he's always hated how skinny and weak he looks. Does it matter, anyway? Sometimes you just need to look at yourself through someone else's eyes to discover things about yourself you may have ignored.
Relationships: Armitage Hux/Rose Tico
Comments: 28
Kudos: 90
Collections: GingerRose Mini exchange 2020





	Shower Me with Love

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Spiegatrix_Lestrange](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spiegatrix_Lestrange/gifts).
  * In response to a prompt by [Spiegatrix_Lestrange](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spiegatrix_Lestrange/pseuds/Spiegatrix_Lestrange) in the [GingerRose_Exchange](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/GingerRose_Exchange) collection. 



> MY FIRST GINGEROSE EXCHANGE!! It was so much fun! This prompt gave me a bit of a run-around for a while, but when I finally found a good idea, it was smooth sailing. I loved writing this! Thank you for the prompt, [@Spiegatrix_Lestrange](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spiegatrix_Lestrange/profile)! I hope you enjoy this story! 
> 
> HUMONGOUS THANK YOU to [@SheWalksInBeauty26](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SheWalksInBeauty26) for being my Beta on this one! I cherish and value your input on all things Gingerose! You're the best!

“We still need to find formal wear for the wedding,” Rose reminded him in a sing-songy voice.

“ _ You _ still need to find formal wear for the wedding,” Hux corrected her.

She studied him at his work bench, her hands on her hips, admiring his broad shoulders. It still surprised her daily, how tall and lean he was, skin stretched out over lightly toned muscle and too much bone. She absolutely loved his aesthetic, though she knew he felt the complete opposite. It had taken them light years to fall in love, and almost just as long to get into bed together. But when they had…

Rose sighed with fondness at the memory. Distracted by the sound, he looked up from the workbench and turned toward her.

“What’s the matter?”

“You,” Rose confessed, strutting toward him and taking the sonic screwdriver out of his long-fingered, pale hands. “You are going to this wedding.”

“I’m not.”

“You are.”

“I’m _not_.”

“You are.”

He rose to his feet then, towering at least a foot, easily more, over her, his spine rod straight, shoulders flat. He always fell into the at attention stance when he was enraged, annoyed, infuriated. It gave Rose the impression he was building a wall between them, the hard wall of his former First Order self.

She glowered at him, crossing her arms over her chest, and met his cool green gaze.

“I gave my answer and it is final.”

He turned from her and his workbench, striding across the open-concept room that was their home and through the tall archway that led into the bedroom they shared. Rose tossed the sonic screwdriver back down on the table and followed him, quick on his heels.

“Oh, Armitage… please?”

“You think every time you plead with me, I will acquiesce to your every request, but you are wrong.”

Even so, his ears were pink. Rose bit down on a grin.

His legs were much longer than hers, and he was faster, but Rose scurried to catch up with him, bobbing around him before he could step into the fresher attached to their suite, her palms flat on his chest. He stared down at her, one eyebrow cocked in sardonic amusement, his lips pressed into a scowl.

“You love me,” Rose began, inching her fingers up his chest.

“Without question.”

She loved how he said it like it was a standard fact she could never doubt. It always made her head spin and her heart throb.

“So please… do this for me?”

He raised his pale hands and wrapped them around her wrists, lowering his face between them to gaze into her eyes.

“ _No._ ”

“Just because it’s Ben?”

“He will always be Ren to me.”

Rose frowned as he dropped her wrists and pushed past her into the fresher, pressing the pneumatic key and effectively slamming the swishing door in her face. She hated when he did things like that, made her feel like he was silencing her. It reminded her of older times, when he was _General Hux_ instead of _her Armitage_. When he got like this, she just had to bite harder.

She waited until she heard the water running, then slammed her palm down on the key. The door swished open silently and she stepped into the already steaming fresher. He hadn’t seen her come in; the fog had clouded up the glass of the shower walls. She stepped quietly forward, tip-toeing on the tile, hoping that today, this would be it; the day she’d sneak up on him and effectively terrorize him.

Her hand rested on the knob of the door. She gripped it tightly, then yanked it open, about to let out a startling shout, but he was there, glaring at her, his arms raised to rest on the sides of the shower’s door frame, lean, nude body rolling with cascading water droplets. She swallowed her shout and gave him a sheepish grin, her stomach lurching as he reached forward and grabbed her by a fistful of her shirt and pulled her into the shower.

“Hux! Hey!” She protested, her clothing becoming instantly soaked. He shoved her into the corner and gestured toward the dispensers for soaps and shampoo.

“Make yourself useful,” he grumbled, gruff but warm. “If you’re going to _spy._ ”

He lowered his head toward her, and Rose smiled. She gently dispensed a little dollop of shampoo into her palm, lathered it up, then smoothed it into his damp, ginger hair. He knew she liked to do this for him; she was obsessed with his hair, of all things. 

Her fingernails scraped delicately across his scalp, pads of her fingers massaging lightly, making sure to work through the strands evenly, uncaring how soaked her clothes were, which were beginning to grow heavy on her frame.

“Done. Rinse.”

He lifted his head away and turned to angle beneath the water, closing his eyes and arching one long arm back to rub through the sudsy mess of his hair, rinsing them away. 

Rose studied him, stared at him, drank him in. Why did he have to be so beautiful? Tall, lanky, creamy alabaster skin covered in freckles, a little mole here and there. His chest was lightly defined, absolute perfection, hip bones cut like Tandgor gems; sharp and triangular. 

The rest of him was impressive in other ways, mostly in making her squirm with delight in the bed they shared, but his face was the most beautiful of all to Rose. She loved him especially in water, as if he were made for it; loved the way the droplets clung to his pale lashes, the way rivulets ran down his strong, clean-shaven jaw and gathered in the hollow of his collarbone, pooling there before descending further. Rose could watch him all day, like some expensive statue in a fountain.

“You’re staring, my love,” he commented softly.

Rose flushed. She shrugged, reaching out and placing one finger on his chest.

“You’re so beautiful… I couldn’t help it.”

He frowned, turning away from her and reaching for the soap.

“Not this again…” Rose sighed.

Hux pointedly ignored her as he began to lather soap against his body. Rose could tell she’d made him nervous by drawing attention to it, his body. He turned his back to her to finish cleansing himself, and Rose did the only thing she could think to do to mend the awkward moment between them. She wrapped her arms around his middle and pressed to his back, soaked clothes and all, uncaring if she also got covered in soap suds. 

“Armitage… if only you could see what I see,” she murmured gently, her cheek squished against his bare back. 

He did not speak a long moment, merely froze beneath her touch, tense, skittish. In moments like this there was always a flip-a-coin kind of tension: would he react angrily and push her away or would he soften? The closer they became, the more in love with her he fell, the less often the first happened. But it was still a potential, always present. Nobody changed that much. 

“What do you see?” 

Rose’s eyes widened at the question, and she turned her head up to meet his eyes as he looked down at her over his shoulder. He was challenging her; his eyes said it all. Did he want her to prove him wrong? 

This she could do. She pushed her palms against him then, forcing him to turn around, and backed him into the shower corner, pressing a floppy mess of wet hair out of her eyes with a sigh. 

“There’s your hair, first of all. You know I love it.” 

His lips pursed slightly, disappointed. He rolled his eyes mildly and averted his stare, crossing his arms nervously over his chest. 

“And your eyes,” Rose’s voice softened as she stared at them. They were working their magic on her, and she stepped closer, her soaked socks bumping up into his bare feet. 

“I love how you tower over me.”

“You do?” He seemed surprised, and his gaze was pulled down to hers once more, eyes blown wide in mild shock. 

“Mhm,” Rose made a sound of agreement. Her hands found their way to his waist. He flinched under her touch but did not move. He still seemed skittish. 

“I love how broad your shoulders are. When you hold me, it’s like being protected by a shield… the shape of your body is so beautiful, and-,”

“I’m too thin-,” the words had tumbled out of his mouth before he could recall them back. He looked disgusted with himself that he had actually admitted it; jaw clenched in mild fury. He would not meet her eye. 

Rose leaned up on her toes, pressing herself against him, and turned his tense jaw toward her with a firm grip. 

“Too thin? For who or what?” Rose murmured softly, gazing at him intently. “What do you need to be bigger for?”

He seemed to flounder then, unsure, casting about for some answer, any answer. But the only answer he could come up with was the only one he would not say aloud: because his father, Brendol Hux, had once upon a time said so. 

He met her gaze, wondering, not for the first time but for the first time with any genuine sense of understanding, just why he did feel compelled to be more than he was by nature.  _ General Hux _ had needed to be. It was his survival mechanism. What did  _ Armitage  _ need? 

“I love you just the way you are.” Rose assured him, showing him by sliding one leg between his, to bring them closer. “We fit together… you and I.”

Silence fell between them, Hux burning beneath the loving gaze of the woman who had helped to remake him. He studied her intently, feeling a familiar swell in his chest, one that he had never felt before being with her. Something that had, at first, been painful to endure, but she was very gentle with him. He wanted to believe her, as he had believed that he could be a better man, seeing himself through her eyes. 

But he would not ignore hypocrisy. 

“What about you?”

Rose faltered at the accusing tone in his voice. She pulled back from him slightly, cocking her head to the side. 

_ “Me?” _

“You think I don’t know,” he muttered, eyes narrowing on hers with mild irritation; he was annoyed. He would never permit anyone to speak of  _ his Rose _ the way she sometimes spoke of herself. It was infuriating. 

“ _ Why are my cheeks so round? I guess I’m just not meant to be pretty, _ ” Hux imitated her, his voice sliding an octave higher. His eyes glittered with just a hint of his old cruelty. 

Rose backed away from him. 

“Th-… that’s different. You can’t-,”

“How is it different?” He challenged, pushing away from the wall of the shower and edging toward her. “How so?”

“I don’t-… I don’t know,” Rose was beginning to feel angry, her eyes flashing. “Those are my private thoughts, Hux, you have no-,”

“Well, they’re wrong.” 

His voice rang off the tile of the shower, he’d spoken so strongly. Rose just stared at him, her mouth hanging open, her eyes beginning to sting with tears. Hux didn’t understand. It was harder for women, there was so much pressure: be tall and thin and lean and pretty, or he’ll leave you. Wasn’t that the way it worked? Everyone else she’d ever loved in her life had run off. Everyone except him. 

“Come here, Rose,” he ordered. It was a command, not a request, and Rose did not want to obey it. 

But he extended a hand toward her, a softer gesture, and she took it. At the touch of his skin to hers, she dissolved into light tears. He pulled her into his arms. 

“This is… bloody ridiculous,” Hux was muttering in frustration, having tried to lift her shirt out of her pants in what was meant to be a sexy and comforting gesture, but her soggy clothing was clinging together and not budging. 

Rose laughed, a soft, lighthearted sound. 

“I love that sound,” he confessed, tipping a finger under her chin and tilting her head back so he could look at her, really look at her. 

“I… love these cheeks,” he murmured breathlessly, pressing a knuckle against one, watching the flesh indent, so soft. “They puff out when you’re cross and make me want to kiss you until you’re pouting for very different reasons.”

Rose wasn’t much of a swooner, but if he hadn’t been holding her up, she might have. Her cheeks were now very much red. 

“You liar.”

“I am not.”

“Are, too.”

He paused. 

“See? You’re angry now…” His thumb was rubbing over her bottom lip. Rose sighed and closed her eyes, leaning toward him. 

He was tempted to kiss her, but he had more to say. 

“Why,” he questioned as he began to unbutton her top. It didn’t need much help to come off, as saturated as it was. It fell to the shower floor with a heavy plop as soon as it had been undone. 

“Why would you ever think your breasts are too large?” he finished, dipping a finger in between the mound of them both. 

“Or that your stomach is too pudgy…,” he caressed her tummy, delighted as she flinched, ticklish. 

“Or that-,”

“Okay!” Rose shouted, leaning up on her toes and clamping a hand down over his mouth. “Okay, I get it. Stop! This is embarrassing.”

His eyes were smiling at her over her hand. Rose flushed, tempted to choke him then and there with her hand over his mouth for longer than necessary. He’d probably let her, too, but she had other intentions for his mouth. 

“Just shut up and kiss me,” 

Rose marveled that kissing under a stream of hot water was rather nice, even as wasteful as it was. Hux kissed like a devil, hot and heavy on the tongue, which was only intensified by the streams of water flowing between them, drowning them in soft pleasure. She had half a mind to turn the water off, sure they’d get a reprimand from General Dameron later on with how much of the supply she and Hux had used of their usual allowance. 

But she quickly became distracted as Hux helped her remove the last of her water-logged clothing. They hit the floor like proverbial burdens now easily forgotten.

As he slid slowly down her body, Rose let out a laugh of pure delight, fingers snaking into his hair. 

The two spent an inordinate amount of time in the shower that afternoon. Poe did pull them aside at the end of the month, bewildered and flustering, as Hux and Rose shared side-long glances and secret smiles; each undressing the other with their eyes, they remembered how it felt that day, looking past each other’s armor to the beauty underneath.


End file.
